small bites, from an unusual plate

Tag Archives: sarcasm

Humor is a veil and sometimes it gets a little hard to breathe under mine.

It’s also a protective shield that deflects from the intent of going deeper.

I’ve been thinking I’ve given myself a little more leeway than I probably should have with the sarcasm defence.

Having to dig for the spin from tragic to trippy is tiring. There are so many more funny stories waiting in the wings. Excerpts fly at me daily sparked by a song or a smell or a taste or a breeze that ruffles my hair.

I exercise my mind a lot trying to see around my metaphoric road block. I’ve heard enough that it doesn’t go away; as you move along, it dimishes. Every time you turn back to the way from which you came, it’ll be there – just as big and ugly as when it landed in your path.

Of course, you’ll go around it. It might not seem like that now, but you will. You might not notice the shift right away. You’ll spend a lot of time maneuvering in its shadow. Then one day, it will be beside you instead of in front of you.

That’s when the decision has to be made. Stand in the at-best momentary warmth of the sun knowing that it won’t always be that way; clouds will come and go. Retreat to the at-worst constant shadow of coldness where life doesn’t change much, but your back is always reliably covered by what it’s flattened up against.

Eventually, movement: until then timing rules the court. It holds us back or propels us forward. Timing is what drives us from soulless to soulful. For some, passing time is counted by continuing little claw scrapes, love bites.